"Do you believe in destiny, Jon Snow?"
"My father did." You said nothing more, but the Queen nodded thoughtfully. "When I was a girl, a shadowcat came to my village. Right into my father's tent. That would have been the end of me. But a wolf from the woods came and drove it away. Three times it threw itself between me and danger. And when the shadowcat fled to seek easier prey, the wolf moved on."
Seeing no point in interrupting what was surely some sort of exposition, you allowed her to continue. "The village elder called me blessed by the Old Gods. He said they were watching over me for a greater purpose. But one day the Old Gods fell silent. Some men who called themselves Greenseers went mad - they put out their eyes or hanged their entrails on the branches. Babes who dreamed of things to come dreamed no more."
The tunnel ahead was narrowing, so thin no more than a few people could pass through at once. "Whatever plan the Old Gods had for me died that day. I was hungry and foolish, so I chased a rabbit. The snow beneath my feet gave way and I fell. I found myself here."
"The Lands Beneath the Wall?"
"The fall took my sight from me. I should have died, foolish girl that I was. But I lived. I learned to survive, Jon Snow. And I've taught my people the same. Winter is almost upon us. It will be the greatest winter in a thousand years. We cannot afford to break ourselves upon Bran's Wall this time."
At long last you reached the end of the tunnel, a chamber as wide and tall as Winterfell. At the end there stood a vast gate of weirwood, with a pale, ancient face carved into it.
"This is Gorne's Way, isn't it?"
The far-off buzzing had returned, standing your hair on end and sending chills down your spine. "It's not the Children of the Forest you're worried about." You looked to the scars on her neck. Teeth marks. "Gendel's Children. This is where my uncle died, isn't it?"
"Time is up, Jon Snow." The Queen drew a knife, a wicked looking piece of sharpened rust. "Your blood will awaken the gatekeeper. Your crows' vow will open the way for us."
The deep roads were throbbing, pulsating madly like a dying man's heart. The distant rumble felt sharper. Hungrier.
[] Open the way.
[] Resist (Write-In).